Red Mate
by ettrainwreck
Summary: When a body is found at the bottom of a bridge, everything points to suicide. But Patrick Jane is not so sure. As more bodies are found, Jane and Rigsby realize that the killer must be stopped at all costs, before a team member's joy turns to tragedy.
1. Culpepper Creek Bridge, 1:21

Patrick Jane (AKA The Mentalist) studied the remains of the body. A female was murdered sometime last night, and an anonymous 911 call was made at 2:00 AM. The signal had gone dead before they had a track. So they were at a dead end. The body was found under the Culpepper Creek bridge the next day. No wounds or bruises, just as if she fell of the bridge. Jane smiled as his golden hair waved in the wind. Jane turned away from the body and saw CBI (California Bureau of Investigation) agent Teresa Lisbon walk towards him, followed aggressively by a large white male.  
>"Look, lady," he began in a Brooklyn accent. "I just wanna know what happened." Lisbon turned around.<br>"Look, I already told you. CBI policy prevents me from disclosing any information about any case."  
>"Oh my God!" he cried. "Shannon!" He knelt down next to the body. "How could she possibly fall off this bridge?" <em>You are meant to think that. But I know something neither you or Lisbon knows,<em> he thought. But he showed no emotion.  
>"Are you this woman's husband?" Before the man could answer, Jane continued quickly. "Of, course not, how silly of me to think that. I could tell by the way you looked at her, a certain angle. In fact, I don't think you even know her. Unless you killed her." The man looked shocked.<br>"Me? Kill Shannon? No! Shannon and I were close friends. But lately she hasn't been taking her depression medicine. She must have gone over the edge." Jane couldn't help but add, "Literally." The man looked at him like he was crazy.  
>"Man, who you think you are?" Lisbon stepped in.<br>"This is Patrick Jane, he's a phychic with the CBI, but the question really should be, who are you?"  
>"Consultant," Jane corrected. "I used to make a good living pretending to be a phychic, but that was before the accident."<br>"Since when do you use the same line twice?" Lisbon mocked. "Now will you please tell me who you are and why you are here?"  
>The man answered with a will.<br>"James Christopher."  
>"From Brooklyn, I suppose? What exactly are you doing out here, 'James' "?"<br>"I moved here to be with Shannon and find a better job. I haven't been here but two weeks." Lisbon began to tell him he could go, but Jane stepped in.  
>"Mr. Christopher, how long have you been sleeping with Mrs. Jacobsen? She is married, you know." The man spread his arms wide, pleading innocence.<br>"I ain't been sleeping with Shannon! We're friends from high school."  
>"Really?" Jane said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Because I see how nervous you are, which mean you're afraid someone will discover you're secret. You are also sweating, another sign of nervousness. Finally, the classic neck rub. When you answered, saying you hadn't been sleeping with her, you rubbed the back of your neck, which indicates you are trying to look earnest, but at the same time you are showing uncertainty. Viola! Lisbon, how fast was that?" Lisbon ignored Jane, dismissing James.<br>"Thank you for your time." Lisbon said. As he walked away, Lisbon released her feelings on Jane as she always did.  
>"What the heck were you thinking? Giving him info about the case?"<br>"I wasn't giving him info, I was merely probing him." Jane said with pleasure. He LOVED his job. Lisbon sighed as they walked together across the river bed.  
>"Sometimes I really hate you."<br>"Do we have any leads?" Jane asked, deftly changing the subject.  
>"We'll start like we always do," Lisbon said.<br>"The family members." They stepped into the black Chevy. Lisbon rolled down the window. "Rigsby," she yelled.  
>"You're in charge." Rigsby, a tall man with black hair and a want for love nodded. He snuck over to Van Pelt, who he had a crush on. She had stunning red hair and long eyelashes. He began sweet talking her, but she tried to ignore it, pretending to mark the evidence. Jane smiled. At this rate, Rigsby would never get a wife or at least a girlfriend. In fact, Van Pelt would be getting married soon. They drove up the access ramp onto the main highway.<br>"All right, Lisbon you got me into this, so where are we going?" Lisbon's short black hair waved in the wind from the open window.  
>"What?" she yelled. Jane reached across her and rolled her window up.<br>"I said, you got me into this, so where are we going?"  
>"Oakland. We're going to talk to Shannon's sister, Julie."<br>"What would Shannon's last name happen to be?"  
>"Jacobson, why?" Lisbon said, a confused expression on her face. Jane loved that expression. It was so cute. It made Jane feel like she was meant for him. But he never showed it.<br>"Call Hightower," Lisbon said. "Tell her what we have on the case so far." Jane sighed.  
>"Why don't you?"<br>"I'm driving!" Lisbon persisted.  
>"You know whats wrong with you?" Jane said. "You justify your actions by defending yourself. That doesn't work with me. Because I can read your mind."<br>"Oh, sure, for thirty bucks, what am I thinking right now?"  
>"You're thinking, I sure am glad Jane is just kidding and can't really read my mind. Am I correct?" "No. Well, yes. But not for what you think." Lisbon's cheeks turned bright red.<br>"You're blushing."  
>"Am NOT!"<br>"You ARE blushing."  
>"Just give me the phone!" Lisbon cried, exasperated. Jane grinned widely. The perfect way to not have to do anything.<br>"Wait, Lisbon. You're forgetting something." He rubbed his fingers together in the international sign for money. Lisbon dug into her purse and slammed the thirty dollars into his hand.  
>"Here. You happy now? Will you leave me alone?" she said, exasperated.<br>"This is only twenty." Jane protested. Lisbon couldn't take any more. She backhanded Jane. "Oww!" He said, holding his nose.

**R & R!**


	2. Jacobsen Residence, 2:34

Jacobson Residence- Hadley, CA- San Hose County  
>"I don't know why someone would want to kill Shannon. She was outgoing, giving, and kind." "Was she redundant like you?" Jane asked.<br>"Jane, be polite!" Lisbon chided. "I'm sorry, he isn't very considerate at times. What was your name?"  
>"Julie," the redhead replied. "Julie Jacobson." She had a short build, brown eyes and very small lips for a woman. "Can I get you something to drink?" Julie asked.<br>"Tea, coffee?"  
>"No thank you," Lisbon refused politely.<br>"Oh yes," Jane began. "Some hot tea please, if it isn't too much trouble."  
>"No, not at all." Julie said, walking into the kitchen. Lisbon followed. Jane took the opportunity to explore the house. There were many pictures of cats. <em>Someone here likes cats, <em>Jane thought. He quietly opened a door and began to explore the rooms. He stepped into a green bedroom. It had more cats. Stuffed animals, pictures and puzzles of cats dominated the room. Something caught Jane's eye. There was a picture of Julie with her arms around a man. A familiar looking man. Shannon was also in the picture, but farther back. Jane grinned. He grabbed the photo and tucked it into his suit pocket. He stepped out and quietly closed the door. He sat down as Lisbon entered with Julie again.  
>"Was there anyone who might have motive to kill Shannon?" Lisbon asked. She thought, then replied slowly,<br>"No... I don't think so." As Jane drank his tea, he listened and watched Julie carefully. She seemed slightly unsure, as if someone was watching her every move. "I'll be right back." she said. She stepped into the basement.  
>"She's an awkward duckling."<br>"Jane!" Lisbon said reproachfuly. A scream came out from the basement. Lisbon jumped towards the door. Jane followed. The body of James Christopher lay in the basement, with glass around him. _There goes my orginal theory._ A window lay broken near the roof. But Jane was interested in something else. He looked to the wall and his heart stopped at what he saw. The smiling blood face, the signature of Red John. Now, it was personal.

After careful forensics work with spottty evidence and overeager forensic engineers, it was decided that it was definitly a Red John piece of work. Christopher had been found with a straight bruise across his neck, indicating he was strangled by something straight and hard, probably metal. Jane did dome snooping around, and found the murder weapon on the wall. A bent lead pipe. Jane pulled hard with his hankerchief around his hand. "Uh, Lisbon, help?" Lisbon helped him pry it off with her gloves on.  
>"Good work." she said, although it was dimissive.<br>"Now, why would Red John wish to kill this man?" Jane asked Lisbon.  
>"How should I know? Your'e the amazing, mind reading Patrick Jane. Shouldn't you know?"<br>"Why do you assume that I know everything? Although it pleases me."  
>"You're just...smart." She cringed at her words and wished she could take them back. Jane grinned.<br>"Thank you, Agent Lisbon. I accept your compliment with utmost gratitude." he said with a painfully fake English accent.  
>"Alright, enough. At least give me a hint." Lisbon said, exasperated.<br>"Well, if Mr. Christopher here," Jane began, pointing at James's crumpled form. "Was sleeping with Shannon, I suspect either Red John was jealous or it was a contract killing. However, it would be a bit out of step if Red John was hired, because Red John always chooses his own victims. But Christopher was not killed here. The murder weapon found, the pipe, was too long for the slot it was in. It was simply wedged in the place of another pipe. This is where the broken window enters. He was rolled in via the broken window, which was broken by the pipe. If we could find where the orginal crime scene was, more evidence could be found to put Red John away."  
>"Unlikely, slightly. Complicated, very. But it all makes sense." Jane glanced behind him to see Agents Van Pelt and Rigsby enter. Van Pelt laid everything out for them. "We just finished at the bridge. This one wasn't a Red John, though, or suicide as we originally thought. When we autopsied the vic we found a small, almost invisible puncture wound on her abdomen. The coroners ran some chemical tests and found traces of liquid arsenic inside." Jane smiled. <em>Once again, I am right. One of the few places people check for wounds is the abdomen. <em>Rigsby finished, brushing back his short hair.  
>"So, after she died, about three hours to be precise, her body was dumped off the bridge to make it look like a suicide." Jane couldn't resit the opportunity to baffle Rigsby.<br>"So, how did she get poisoned?"  
>"It was injected into her by syringe."<br>"Yes, but how did the killer get close enough to inject it?" No one answered. "Come on, this is easy! He obviously had to have her just where he wanted her, so he must have had her locked away somewhere or tied up. This is now a kidnapping case, and this is not a Red John killing, Lisbon. Red John always leaves a gruesome crime scene so people will fear him. This is small and minimal contact. As to the whereabouts of more evidence, I think this will best be answered with investigation, which I took the liberty of doing myself, and I found this." Jane triumphatly help up a piece of paper, with writing on it. The agents crowded around to see it.  
>"It says...Orientum Bar?" Van Pelt said in confusion.<br>"Red John was a student of Latin." Lisbon said.  
>"That's right, very observant of you Lisbon, you could almost be me. Orientum in Latin means the east, and bar means, well, bar. So this note says, in full..." Rigsby jumped up, interupting Jane.<br>"East Side Bar!"  
>"That is correct. So this note tells us to go to East Side Bar, and we can infer that it is the original crime scene."<br>"Well, what are we waitng for?" Van Pelt said. "Let's go!"

**Please R&R!**


	3. East Side Bar, 3:45

Rigsby was not one to generally judge, but he knew deep down that Jane was smug. Smugness was not always the best quality in a person, but Patrick Jane was full of it. Every time he was right about a hunch or crime, the smugness returned. _His personality will one day be the death of him. Pride always comes before a fall_. Sometimes Rigsby appreciated it, but today he did not. Jane was faster at this game than most, including Rigsby. But experience is earned, not given. Jane had always been a bright one, ever since he joined the force in '99, during Red John's rise. He never officially joined, but decided to work as a consultant for the CBI, using his phycological experience to his advantage. People said he could read minds, but he always protested, saying that he was only paying attention. Rigsby watched the cityscape whiz by, remembering his past. As a standard issue police, he had few friends until a opportunity-searching Teresa Lisbon met him. With his excellent aim and instinct, Lisbon hired him on the spot. He looked up out of his reverie to see an old building, paint peeling and half the neon lights burned out.  
>"Turn here." he said to Van Pelt, pointing to the building. Jane was already waiting next to his German built Citroen DS21.<br>"What took you so long?" he asked grinning.  
>"Stuff." Rigsby muttered, not really wanting conversation.<br>"Well, that could be any number of things. For example..." Jane was cut off by Lisbon, who shoved him out of the way.  
>"Enough small tlak. Let's move in." After some convincing, the owner of the bar let them look around for clues, bur Lisbon had to threaten him with obstruction of justice. No further complaints.<br>"No police?" Jane asked.  
>"None. This is CBI buisness."<br>"Awww... I liked bothering them."  
>"You are such a child!" Lisbon complained. "Go mentalize someone."<br>"Alright, Lisbon. You force me to." He sauntered off towards the bar.  
>"Now that we have him out of the way, maybe we can get some actual work done." Van Pelt commented dryly.<p>

Jane was still focused on the case, but he wanted a drink. He decided to give a little and have one. As he headed to the bar, he looked around._ No customers, I wonder why. Maybe I should ask._ Jane saw the bartender, a Hispanic woman with her black hair back in a ponytail, maybe in her late twenties.  
>"What'll it be?" she asked sadly.<br>"Um, Scotch please. But just half a glass." he said, showing her the size with his fingers. She nodded, then began pouring the amber liquid into a small glass, watching him all the while.  
>"You're the CBI agent, Patrick John, right?" Jane smiled encouragingly.<br>"Patrick John, ma'am, and I am not a phychic. I just pay attention and ask good questions. Many people call me a phychic, but I haven't been since..." his voice trailed off.  
>"Oh. I'm sorry."<br>"I will tell you something, as I said, I just observe, and I observe your submissive behavior, so I can infer that you were taught to obey. Are you involved in protestution?" The bartender's hand flew to her mouth in surprise. "Your face is an open book to me. Don't try to hide anything, because I will discover it." The girl nodded. "Bartending does not suppy enough for me and my four children. I had to find an alternate form of pay." Jane sipped at his Scotch, the cold liquid quenching his thirst.  
>"You have a degree in anthropology, don't you? Don't answer, because I know you do. When I entered, you were sizing me up, trying to learn everything you could about me, where I'm from, what I'm like, etc. You don't have to sleep with men off the street to provide. Follow your dreams! And I'll help you. If you tell me what I want, I'll help you get a good job. You deserve more than this!" Jane said passionately. The woman blinked back tears, then nodded. Jane smiled, then began the questioning. "Was there anyone acting strangly?"<br>"Come to think of it, there was a man pulling a long suitcase. He went in the kitchen to complain about something, but didn't have it with him when he came out. He also bought four vodkas, then paid with a Visa."  
>"Classic. Will you pull up credit card transactions for that night?" She agreed, then tapped some info into a computer. Her face lit up with recognition.<br>"David Crane. That was him alright."  
>"Right down your phone number and name so I can help you. I've got to make a call." Her face filled with joy, she quickly scribbled out her name and number. Jane picked it up. "Thank you, Miss...Santiago?" She shook her head.<br>"Call me Andrea."  
>"All right, Andrea. I'll call you soon." She waved as Jane left. Jane pulled out his phone and dialed Cho.<br>"Agent Cho."  
>"Greeting, Agent Cho. I have some work for you."<br>"What do you want, Jane?"  
>"Research a David Crane. Criminal records, everything. The whole nine yards. Always wanted to say that."<br>"I'll see what I can do." The phone line went dead. Typical Cho. Unpassionate. Jane wandered into the kitchen. He knew it was in there somewhere.

Van Pelt looked anxiously at her watch. "Lisbon, I'm going to be late. Can I go?" Lisbon rubbed her hand through her hair in frustration.  
>"I guess. Take someone with you. Take Jane. Get him out of the way." Van Pelt nodded, then headed through the bar to find Jane. Instead she found an unusually happy bartender, who pointed her to Jane. She found him snooping around in the kitchen.<br>"Come on. You're coming with me." She said commandingly.  
>"Coming where?"<br>"Just come on." Jane grinned, then followed. Before they got in the car, Jane yelled to Lisbon,  
>"Check in the kitchen. You might have better luck there!"<br>"Jane, shut up and get in."  
>"Where are we going?" Jane asked as he buckled his seat belt.<br>"To get a dress."

**R & R please!**


	4. Mercy Bridal, 4:01

Mercy Bridal Boutique-5:47

"Oh, this is where your appointment is. Can you make bridal appointments?" Jane asked innocently.  
>"Shut up!" Van Pelt said, hitting Jane. Together they entered the store, door bells ringing as they opened the door. "Mr. Jeffs?" Van Pelt called into the empty store, her heels clicking on the tile floor.<br>"Be right with ya!" a confident voice called back.  
>"He's going to help me with my fitting and choosing the dress." Van Pelt said to Jane.<br>"Like I wanted to know that."  
>"Why did I ever want to bring you with me?"<br>"Good question. I don't know." Van Pelt shook her red hair, around in a circle, straightening it out. She then smoothed down her shirt. A medium sized man with very short black hair came out of the back, a tape measure around his neck. He wore casual clothes, just a t-shirt and jeans.  
>"Grace! There's my girl." They embraced, and Jane wolf-whistled. Van Pelt glared at him.<br>"He's a FRIEND!"  
>"So you say, Grace. So you say."<br>"Shall we choose your dress?"  
>"After I introduce you to my associate, Patrick Jane."<br>"Oooh, I'm an associate. I feel proud." They shook hands. "Honored to meet you, Jeffs."  
>"Oh no, call me Steven. Formalities are past. We can be on first name terms. And you are the psychic I've heard so much about?" Jane sighed.<br>"No, I'm not a psychic. Just paying attention. I have to tell EVERYONE that." Steven led Grace to a mirror.  
>"Let's get you measured up!" Jane watched with boredom as Grace was fitted for a dress. "Alright, Grace, do you want trendy, or classic dress?" Van Pelt wandered for a bit, looking at the dresses. Then she nodded and said,<br>"I think I'll go with classic!"  
>"Couldn't have made a better choice myself. I'll be right back. I've got to go stitch something up, let me know what your choice is when I come back." Steven quickly and awkwardly headed into the back room. Grace began browsing the dresses, looking for the perfect dress for her wedding. While she picked up a dress and held it to her torso, Jane slipped off to follow Steven. Peeking around the corner, he saw Steven picking up a small package wrapped with duct tape. <em>Suspicious, <em>Jane thought. _I think I know what's in that package._ Jane pulled back around the corner and sat down just as Van Pelt came out of the dressing room with a beautiful dress. It had a bow in the middle, with a long veil and bottom.  
>"Well? What do you think?" she said happily.<br>"Oh, yeah. It looks like you have a big albino cow turd on your dress." Grace gaped.  
>"You selfish, stuck up, pig!"<br>"Just kidding. It looks great on you." Still offended, she flounced to the counter to pay. Steven came out right on cue and took the money from her. "Three hundred dollars is pretty pricey for a piece of cloth."  
>"Oh, hush. It will all be worth it at the wedding."<br>"Craig isn't your type, Grace." Jane said coldly. Van Pelt did not respond, just headed to the car. _There's something about Craig that I don't like, and what is Steven up to in his "sewing" room?_

Lisbon was miserable. Having no luck finding any evidence, she decided against her judgment to follow Jane's advice. She began searching in the kitchen. She searched everywhere, and Rigsby had searched behind her. _One more place to search._ Lisbon begrudgingly opened up the large, beat-up refrigerator. Revolted at what she saw, she leapt back trying not to throw up from the smell of death.  
>"Well, we found part of the victim. Or parts."Three fingers lay in the bottom, and once again the face of Red John was there.<br>"Boss, this doesn't look like Red John's face. Look."Rigsby pointed to the top of the face. "No overlap. Just a straight circle."  
>"That means…"<br>"Things are about to get a lot more complicated." Agent Hightower said as she entered. Madeline Hightower was the CBI boss, if you will, taking over for the former leader, Virgil Milleni. She wore the usual cloths of a female investigator, and her short black hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head. Her brown skin shone in the light, making it obvious she had tried to look nice.  
>"Madeline? What are you doing here?"<br>"I heard you were down two agents, so I decided to help. Unless you don't want it."  
>"I don't know if we will need it. We need to figure out why someone is imitating Red John."<br>"Because he was hired." Jane said, entering. "Red John needed someone to continue his reign of fear, while he was doing something else, maybe coordinating another killing or doing something out of state. So it seemed like he was still here, but he really wasn't. Red John doesn't leave a small part like that, he leaves the whole body mutilated. So, we know this isn't Red John, simply another imitation."  
>"Well, that leaves us with nowhere to go."<br>"A waiting game." Hightower commented.  
>"Not exactly." Jane replied. "If this fake face was made within 48 hours of now, and being the fool that he is, already telling us that he is not Red John, we might be able to get a fingerprint from the face if he wasn't wearing gloves."<br>"Jane, you are a genius." Hightower said, genuinely impressed.  
>"Don't give him any ideas!" Lisbon said, pulling out a fingerprint kit. She began to brush the powder onto the dried blood.<br>"Got it!" Lisbon said excitedly.  
>"Got what, boss?" Rigsby said, shifting his weight.<br>"Jane was right! There are fingerprints!"  
>"Almost too easy…" Van Pelt mused.<br>"Let's get back to base and get these prints analyzed. It could give us a good lead." Hightower said commandingly.  
>"Guess who's back." Jane said cheekily. Hightower turned to glare frostily at him, then headed out to her car.<br>"Guess we better follow suit before she fires us all for insubordination." Grace said with annoyance.  
>"Wait, I get to say it this time, Lisbon." Jane prostested. He smiled and winked at Lisbon, and she rolled her eyes. "Let's move out!" Jane bellowed.<br>"Promise me you'll never do that again." Lisbon said, wincing.  
>"Maybe." Jane sat down at the wheel of his car and started it.<br>"I love this car." He said sentimentally, and drove out of the parking lot, following Hightower.

**R&R for me! Thanks!**


	5. CBI Headquarters, 5:00

CBI Headquarters

Agent Kimball Cho was glued to his computer, trying to find existence of David Crane. He had run almost every scan possible, background, fingerprint, but could find nothing. Cho didn't know if Jane was telling him the truth. Maybe David Crane didn't exist. Maybe Jane was once again screwing with his mind, as usual. Heck if he knew. Jane always had something new up his sleeve, whether it is a fraud or a plan to catch the wrongdoer. Cho decided to run one more scan before giving up. He ran a scan for criminal records. Cho closed his eyes and rubbed them with exhaustion. He heard a pinging sound, and looked at the computer screen. His search had yielded results. A long list of criminal accusations and jail time stretched down the screen.

The CBI headquarters was a three-story brick building with balconies on the second floor. Agents and correspondents scurried to and from, in and out at the speed of sound. It was a place of sanctuary for those who worked there, and for others who broke the law, it was a hell on earth. A black sedan pulled up to the gates. A female flashed an ID card, and the gate guard opened the black and gold-rimmed gate. The car pulled into a parking spot and shut off, the engine making pinging sounds as it cooled down. Agent Teresa Lisbon stepped out of the car, drank the last of her cheap, gas-station coffee as she exited her car. The taste lingered in her throat as she tossed the cup into the gray trash can next to the door. She saw Jane exit his car, and sped up her pace to avoid him. She did not want to talk to him right now. Unfortunately, Jane also sped up.  
><em>Leave me alone, Jane. <em> She thought. She was angry at herself for not having the answers she needed. She needed a break, a vacation, something to get away from the fast-paced job of a CBI investigator.  
>"How goes it?" Jane asked, shielding his eyes from the intense California sun.<br>"Truthfully, or do you just want me to say yes?" Lisbon asked as they walked towards the elevator. Jane pondered.  
>"Truthfully." He responded.<br>"Suckish." Lisbon said as she pressed the Call button on the elevator. Jane grinned.  
>"Great!" The elevator doors groaned open, and they stepped inside, followed by Rigsby, Hightower and Van Pelt, carrying her wedding dress. Lisbon stabbed at the second floor button, and the doors closed, carrying them upstairs.<p>

Cho was busy getting his lunch ready, a ham sandwich, when the elevator doors opened.  
>"Boss." He said, nodding at Lisbon. "Jane," he said, his voice taking on a different tone.<br>"I got your man."  
>"Ah, so does he have all I expected him to?" Jane said with a playful smile.<br>"Depends on what that is." Cho said with indifference. Jane grinned.  
>"Show me."<p>

"Massive criminal record, but that's about all I could find." Cho said. "He must have deleted all his info except CR."  
>"Maybe he forgot?" Van Pelt suggested from her desk, glued to her computer.<br>"Unlikely, these records give more info about his lifestyle than the others. Only a blunder could have caused him to forget, which I doubt. He must have left it on purpose." Lisbon stared at Jane.  
>"Somehow, in some crazy way, that makes sense."<br>"Of course it does, I came up with it." Lisbon hit him lightly in the side.  
>"Shut up." Cho began listing the criminal charges.<br>"Theft, two accounts of battery and assault, illegal possession of firearms, etcetera."  
>"Quite the criminal." Jane commented. "Now, how would we find where he lives? Hmm, I wonder." He said playfully.<br>"Got it." Rigsby said. "Home phone records, 3985 Yew Street, and it's in town." He said, pointing to the data.  
>"Rigsby, Jane, with me." Lisbon said, taking over command.<br>"Road trip!" Jane said. He took off into the elevator, barely avoiding Hightower, who was making her coffee. "Sorry!" Jane said. Hightower shook her head as Jane ran after the group. _ What is wrong with him? _She pondered.


	6. End of Story?

Hey guys,

After the last episode of "The Mentalist" (Strawberies and Cream) I realized that my story would no longer work out with the death of Red John and Craig. I have decided to call off the story. If you specifically want me to continue, send me a message or review and I will think about your ideas.

Keep writing, ettrainwreck.


End file.
